


We take things a little far (but you couldn't name a place I wouldn't go with you)

by feralpixiedreamgirl



Category: Malcolm in the Middle
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, One Shot, PWP, author enjoys swearing way too much, brother incest, subby Malcolm bc I felt like it but it really doesn't go anywhere, the smallest d/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 05:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralpixiedreamgirl/pseuds/feralpixiedreamgirl
Summary: Reese and Malcolm have a fight. Reese has canonically no idea what he's doing. And neither has Malcolm.





	We take things a little far (but you couldn't name a place I wouldn't go with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Can you hear this dead fandom coming back from the grave like a zombie? Grr Argh! If you find some terribly embarrassing mistakes please tell me but don't be mean because 1) English is not my first language and 2) I will cry.
> 
> ~now betaed by the amazing and show stopping [tendervittles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendervittles) ;)

Malcolm had just thrown his backpack in the corner of their messy bedroom when Reese tackled him to the ground. With a yelp he went down, face first, knocking over the tower of dingy books and sheet music Dewey had built next to one of their desks. 

Before he was able to orient himself Reese was on his back, screaming in his ear about how Malcolm was a "disgusting traitor" and "the worst brother to ever be a brother to another brother" because he had told their mother that he had snuck out the night before to try and get Lisa Wachowski to make out with him.

  
"Get off me, Reese! Get the fuck off me, asshole!", Malcolm screamed back while desperately trying to get his arms under himself. "I don't hear you denying it!" Reese used the whole of his weight to push Malcolm's shoulders down.

  
"Well, /maybe/ if you hadn't eaten half of my dinner and then thrown the rest in the trash right as I came through the door, there would have been no need for me to teach you a lesson!"

"You know the rules! If you are not home by six everything on the table is a free-for-all!" 

"Fuck you!"

  
Malcolm put his hands flat on the dirty carpet and pushed himself up with as much strength as he could muster. Reese, now off balance, fell to the side and rolled off him with a grunt. "Why do you always have to be such an unbelievable asshole?!" Malcolm demanded as he turned around to grab Reese by his shirt. 

  
"I don't know!", Reese yelled in response. He clutched Malcolm's wrists and tore them away from his collar. "But if you weren't such an insufferable smart-ass I wouldn't have to do this." Reese shoved Malcolm over and back on the floor, climbing on his lap and pinning his arms above his head with one hand on each wrist. Malcolm laid there, panting, his face an angry grimace. 

"Do what exactly?", he challenged.

  
Reese furrowed his brow as if he was turning over possibilities in his mind. Then his features contorted into an ugly grin.

  
Malcolm's stomach dropped when he heard Reese sloshing around the spit inside his mouth. He pinched his eyes shut and his body tensed up in horrified anticipation.

  
As soon as Reese's drool made contact with his upper lip, Malcolm wanted to recoil in disgust. He wriggled around in a futile attempt to get away, but that only resulted in his cock brushing against Reese's ass. He opened his mouth to scream at Reese to let him go, however, that was an obvious mistake as Reese's spit dribbled right into his mouth.  


"Ew!" Malcolm tore his eyes open. "Why do you always do this? Why do you always have to top yourself with your gross bullshit?!"  
Reese blinked down at him. "As I said, /I don't know/!" 

He took one hand from Malcolm’s wrists – obviously unafraid of any possible revenge moves on the part of Malcom – to wipe at his chin, smearing the spit residue across it. "This is the most revolting thing you've ever done to me", Malcolm claimed, too appalled to think of any such moves.  


"Oh please, don't you remember when I -" 

"You just spit right into my mouth!" 

"Well, actually, I spit on your face, it's your own fault if you just slurp it right up." 

"I did not 'slurp it up', you piece of shit!" Malcolm reached for his brother's throat with his free hand, but he wasn’t fast enough for Reese who seized his arm once again and slammed it back onto the floor.  


Even though Malcolm knew Reese was stronger than him he kept squirming to somehow break his hold. "I had a big dinner yesterday, brainiac", Reese sneered. Malcolm "herumpfhed" in annoyance. His cheeks were flushed from the effort and Reese was gripping his wrists hard enough to bruise. Defeated, he finally stopped moving and just lay back against the floor. He could see the small dent in the ceiling from when Francis had thrown the TV remote up against it in a fit of rage three years ago.  


"So, what do you want?", Malcolm asked the dent before giving an exasperated sigh.  


"To torture you until you never disrespect my authority again!" Malcolm, unfazed, rolled his eyes. Reese leant forward and, before Malcolm could protest, licked a hot wet stripe right across his cheek. To his utter horror, Malcolm could feel his dick beginning to get hard in his pants. Panic enveloped him, his upper arms flooding with goose bumps. He had to get away from Reese, right now, or his brother might possibly just kill him.  


"Okay, okay", he spit out through gritted teeth, "I respect your authority! Just … get off me!" 

Reese laughed out loud. "Say, I'm Malcolm and I'm Reese's little bi-" During what Reese probability considered his big victory speech he had moved back again, his ass had settled on Malcolm's semi hard-on and he froze.  


Reese's facial expression completely derailed. Malcolm flushed a deep crimson. He felt hysterical. He felt terrified. He felt like his insides were on fire. And the pressure of Reese's ass on his cock really did not help. "Is that-", Reese seemed to choke on his own spit.  


"Could you /please/ just get off me?" Malcolm struggled to keep his voice steady against the knot in his throat.  


Reese didn't move. For a moment they just stared at it each other while Malcolm could hear his own heartbeat swooshing in his ears.  


His wrists hurt where Reese clenched them in a vice-like grip on the mucky carpet, his temple hurt where it had first met the floor, and Reese still pushing down on his hardening cock felt so terribly, terribly good.  


All of a sudden Reese shifted, redistributing a part of his weight onto his arms. Their faces where only ten inches apart now. "What", the word scratched in Malcolm's throat and he had to swallow, "What are you doing?" Reese didn't answer, he just hovered above him, considering him.  


"Just ... shut up for a second." He whispered it like a secret. Like they were still children, hiding under the house from their mother after they made the neighbor's mailbox explode with fireworks from Francis's rucksack.  


Reese visibly inhaled, and then he closed the gap between them and kissed Malcolm, just so, brushing his lips with his own. Malcolm's world immediately shrunk down to the place where they were now connected, soft and warm. It was the shortest peck. When Reese moved back out of his space, it was like he took all the air with him.  


Malcolm felt dazed, his lips and wrists burning, his cock throbbing where it was pressed against his brother's ass. "I-", he started, but Reese interrupted him: "Is anyone else home?"  


Malcolm licked his lips. "No, Dewey has detention and Mom-" Reese moved forward unexpectedly in his lap, rubbing his butt across Malcolm's erection. Malcolm let out a tentative "Ah". He could feel jolts of pleasure, like electricity, spreading out across his body.  


Somewhere deep inside the crevices of his brilliant brain he decided that this might be the most fucked up thing they had ever done. Worse than the time they had stolen from the church. Possibly even worse than the time they had made their mom think she had cancer. Then he decided he didn’t care.  


He put both of his feet flat on the floor and bucked up against Reese.

Reese responded promptly with a "Fuck" and a downward grind. Malcolm could see Reese's pupils dilating.

  
"I don't … ", he didn't know how to finish that sentence but he didn't have to because Reese just kissed him again. His brother's lips moved against his own and without hesitation Malcolm opened up for him. Reese licked into his mouth – making him shiver – and finally let go of Malcolm's abused wrists.

Instead he laced their fingers together, still holding Malcolm down in his position on the floor. The effect being almost entirely unable to move had on him, being pinned down by his big brother, was another thing Malcolm was not able to comprehend right now. He just knew the weight in his throat that had felt like it was constricting his airflow was now completely gone and instead something had settled comfortably in his stomach.

He felt easy, pliable. So he just squeezed Reese’s hands as he returned the kiss.

  
When Reese broke away their breath was mingling together in the small space between them.  


"I don't have a clue what I'm doing", Reese admitted.

  
"This is pretty bad", Malcolm replied, "but I don't think I've ever been this hard." Reese started giggling.  


"Don't make fun of me!" "I'm not. I'm really not." Reese grinned. He took Malcolm's dominant hand and put it right on his crotch. Malcolm's gaze flickered down to where he could feel the outline of Reese's hard-on through his stained jeans and then quickly back up again.

  
"This is fucked up", Malcolm emphasized. "Is it bad that I don't care?" Reese asked, unknowingly reflecting Malcolm's own thoughts.

  
For a fraction of time both of them said nothing. Malcolm's hand was still resting on Reese's dick.

  
There was heat radiating through his brother's pants. Malcolm waited for the shame and the disgust to flood his system. He waited for the alarm and the anxiety to override his brain. But there was nothing. Nothing except for their breathing, loud in their childhood bedroom, and the pleasant warmth in his belly.  


"No. Fuck it." He rose up – Reese releasing his hands – and captured his brother's mouth yet again. This time they immediately found their rhythm as they tasted each other.  


"Can I touch it?", Malcolm finally asked when he had to come up for air. His voice sounded cautious to his own ears. Reese's eyes widened.  


"Yeah", Reese stammered, "Yeah, you can. Just ... do you really want to?"  


The uncertainty made Malcolm stop for a second. Maybe the fear finally tried to catch up with him after all. But he was not a coward. Maybe an idiot, but not a coward. Scraping together the little bit of courage he could find Malcolm nodded.  


Reese swallowed. "Okay." His brother's voice now sounded pretty small, too.  


Malcolm pulled the zipper down.  


The boxer shorts that Reese wore underneath must have been black at one point but the color had faded to a dark gray. Malcolm hooked the forefinger and middle finger of both of his hands behind the elastic band, feeling his brother shiver at the contact, and pushed the fabric down until Reese's dick sprung free. Malcolm gasped.  


Reese was fully hard. His erection was slightly pink, the pre-cum making the tip glisten.  


Malcolm glanced up again. Reese was staring at him. He looked scared. Without taking his eyes off his brother’s face Malcolm closed his right hand around his dick. Malcolm could feel him tense on his lap.  


The skin was velvety to his touch.

He really was going to do this.  


He squeezed gently and started to move his hand up, and then down, experimentally, trying to remember how he himself liked to be touched. Which wasn't that easy with all of his blood accumulated in his own dick.  


Reese toppled over, catching himself on his hands. His head hung low, his mouth next to Malcolm's left ear. Reese's breathing was sharp. It made Malcolm's hair stand up from his neck. "Do you" - a gulp – "like this?" 

"Yeah." Reese's voice sounded hoarse. Malcolm's dick twitched embarrassingly in response.  


He touched his thumb to the slit, where a pearl of pre-cum met the digit. He spread the sticky liquid down his brothers cock. "Fuck", Malcolm hissed. He closed his hand around Reese's dick and started to jerk him of in earnest, feeling the whole of it in his hand as he moved upwards, making a tight fist, loosening the grip while on the downward motion. Puffs of air were ghosting across his skin as he put his other hand on Reese's neck.  


He could hear Reese whisper as he picked up the pace. There were huffs and broken words and noises that were urging him to "Please, holy shit." The moment prickled the goose flesh that had advanced from his arms to his heart to the rest of his body.  


Reese's skin felt hot under his left hand. Malcolm touched the short hair on his nape, now damp with sweat. The slick noise of his hand moving on Reese’s cock was deafeningly loud to Malcolm’s ears, uncomfortable and wet and echoing accusingly from the walls.  


He could feel his own dick pressing against his hand-me-down jeans, leaking pre-cum into the front of his boxer shorts. It was like Reese's unabashed vocalizations had an absurd direct line into his pants.  


Reese now started to shudder above him, his hips thrusting shamelessly. His breathing became even more erratic, fast. He groaned that he was "About to ... I’m gonna ... " and then - with a whimper and a sharp intake of breath – he spilled himself all over Malcolm’s washed-out Nazca T-shirt.  


Gasping, gulping.

Malcolm wiped his hand on his trouser leg. His eyes found the indentation on the ceiling again, still there, as if what he had done - /ohmygodwhatdidyoudowhatdidyoudo/ - hadn’t just expelled the earth right off its axis.

  
Reese laid his forearms flat on the floor and let his upper body rest on Malcolm's chest, seemingly oblivious to the mess he had made of his brother's shirt. Malcolm could feel Reese's heart jack-rabbiting. "That was … holy fuck", Reese was commenting directly into his ear."Yeah. I know."

  
Shit. 

  
But even though he felt himself spiraling, he reveled in the familiarity of Reese. His heaviness on top of him. His sweet and salty smell.  


He closed both of his arms around his brother's back, pulling him into a hug. Reese simply and unselfconsciously snuggled his face into the crook of Malcolm's neck. Malcolm thought he could feel him grinning into his skin.  


"I should do something about ... you know I can feel your ... it's only fair." A nervous tremble, then determination. The situation should have been comical. Well, it should have been revolting. And yet. He just wanted … more of Reese.  


An image of himself on his knees between Reese’s legs flashed across his mind’s eye. Of Reese ruthlessly stuffing his mouth until Malcolm saw stars.  


Oh god. Did these ideas just now come to him? Had he always been such a disgusting freak?  


One of Reese's hands had quietly wandered down each of his sides and found the hem of his shirt. Since Malcolm was still holding him, there wasn't much wiggle room but Reese managed to slid one of his hands under the fabric and spread his fingers out across his skin.  


Now, right after the world should have exploded, he was aware of every square inch of himself. He could taste the musky air, distinctly, deep in his throat. But the world hadn’t stopped spinning. Like nothing they did in this crammed and ugly room they shared had actually mattered at all.  


Reese's hand roamed upwards to the skin that stretched across his chest. One by one Reese's fingers wandered about Malcolm's rips. He could hear Reese murmur "One, two, three, four … " as his finger tips skipped from bone to bone. "Reese." He made Reese's hair waver. Reese's hand halted in their exploration. "Do you want me to stop? Because I will. If you want me to."  


Malcolm didn't answer. He didn't know. He just didn't know what he wanted. Or, no, that wasn’t quiet right. His need just made him want to roll up into a ball and maybe cry a little bit.  


"Malcolm?" Reese raised up against Malcolm's arms. He let them fall away. "Malcolm? Hey, Malcolm?"  


Malcolm averted his eyes. His gross thoughts were burning a hole in his stomach.   


"Hey, why don't you … hey!" Reese's voice was getting louder. "Hey! Don't you dare be all 'woe is me' right now, you fucking coward." Reese gripped his chin and forced him to face him. Reese's lips were a strained line.  


"Please just ... if you want me to stop touching you, I will. I mean, I'm not an asshole, if you want me to get off ... I don't mean ... fuck ... will get up and leave if you tell me to. But ... I really want to ... touch you some more." His expression softened as he implored Malcolm to answer.  


So, Reese wanted to. And Malcolm, himself, he wanted to, too. He wanted Reese so. very. badly. "If you want to", Malcolm conceded.  


"Yes. I do." Reese's sounded harsh. His earnesty made Malcolm chuckle involuntarily. "Don't laugh at me", Reese demanded, but he didn't appear to be actually angry. "Okay." Pause. "It's okay."  


Malcolm couldn't help the laughter bubbling up in his chest. Reese punched him in the shoulder but it barely hurt. "So, I'm gonna ... just let me ... " Reese sat back on Malcolm's thighs as he scrunched the soiled t-shirt up under Malcolm's arm pits. Malcolm let his head fall back and tried to relax his arms.  


Reese pinched the white-pink flesh on his left side. "Talk to me." Both of Reese's hands meandered across his skin. "I'm just gonna touch everywhere if you let me. I want to touch everywhere. So, tell me. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do."

Reese's hands stretched out, encompassing Malcolm's chest.  


"That feels … good." Reese’s eyebrows went up to meet his hairline. "What?" 

"I don't know. I just like the general … touching. Touching in general." 

"What if I do this?" Reese's hands drifted down each of Malcolm's sites, his fingernails lightly scraping, until they found the dip of his waist.  


"That good?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, very … good." Malcolm couldn't ban the tremble from his voice.  


"How about this?", Reese inquired while he drew his fingers inwards. He stopped when they made contact with the wiry hair that trailed from Malcolm's belly button into his jeans.  


"I … " 

“Do you want to move this whole thing up to the bed?"  


That made Malcolm finally look at Reese again. His brother met him head-on. His determination felt bizarre to Malcolm. And he was worried that if they moved, it would finally make Reese snap out off it and make him realize how very repulsive this was. But that just meant the answer was yes. He wanted to move this to the bed. And he wanted Reese to put his stupidly nice hands on Malcolm's dick.   


Malcolm nodded.  


"Cool." Reese stood up and Malcolm followed. And so they stood in the middle of the room, watching each other, like two idiots. Malcolm could picture how Reese’s cock must still hang out over the waistband of his boxer shorts but he didn't dare check.  


He felt dizzy.  


"Which one?" "What?" Malcolm replied, confused. "Which bed? Mine?" "Yeah. Good. That sounds good", Malcolm sputtered. Reese rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up", Malcolm said and flopped down on the crumpled sheets.  


"Take your pants off", Reese ordered. The command made Malcolm heart beat stutter.  


Malcolm's hands were jittery as he opened his fly and pulled down both his jeans and underpants at the same time. Annoyed at his own anxiety he decided that if Reese could be brazen then so could he. "You know what I really want?" He could feel his pulse throbbing. Undoubtedly, it was shocked at the boldness. "I want you to suck my cock."  


Silence.  


Malcolm looked down on his lap. It appeared silly, really, his own dick, kind of alien, laying against his belly.  
This whole incest thing was giving him an ulcer.  


"I mean, you don't have to." God, he was so lame.  


Reese's knees met the floor with a thump that made Malcolm flinch. His mouth fell open in astonishment. "I know I don't have to. Are you shitting me? No one could MAKE ME suck your stupid queer dick."  


Malcolm had no idea what he should say to that. Reese was kneeling between his open legs, on eye level with Malcolm's crotch. He watched Reese curiously. He had expected a lot of things – maybe even violence. Even though that would have been kind of rude considering he had given Reese a hand-job not five minutes ago. He hadn't expected this though.  


"If you're just doing this to, like, proof something, you don't have to! In fact, please don't."  


"Bla bla bla, will you chill already?" Reese glared at him and then fixed his erection with the same scowl.  


He and Malcolm's hard-on seemed to be in some kind of absurd staring-contest.  


"Are you pissed at my dick? Because you look like you're pissed at my dick." 

Reese licked his lips nervously. "No, you idiot, I'm just trying to figure out where to start." He blinked up at Malcolm. "It's not like I've ever done this before", Reese said. 

"And porn can really only prepare you so much", Malcolm added.   


"I can do this. How hard can it be? Girls have been blowing dudes for thousands of years." Reese rolled his shoulders and shook out his arms. "And besides, it's not even that big." 

"Hey!" 

Reese didn't gave him time to be offended long since he chose this opportunity to apparently just go for it. In one fell swoop he took nearly the whole length of Malcolm's cock in his mouth - Malcolm let out a nonsensical "hng" - only to immediately choke, sputter and then pull off as the tip touched the back of his throat. Reese sat back on his heels, blinking away tears. Malcolm was mostly busy trying not to laugh.  


"Apparently it's bigger than you can handle", Malcolm mocked. "Whatever", Reese replied.   


"Just go slower." 

"Thanks for the pep talk on sucking dick." 

"Whatever, you're the one crying." 

"Oh, fuck off." Reese opened his mouth comically wide and poked his tongue out. Malcolm felt something in his stomach constrict. It was grotesque. Ludicrous. God.  


Now his brother went slowly, carefully, as he took Malcolm's erection in. He put his mouth only over the tip, letting it slip inside and then rest on his tongue.  


The first time Malcolm hadn't been able to appreciate the smooth heat of Reese's mouth. This time it made him tremble all the way up, all the way down.  


Reese’s nose was flaring and he batted his lashes like in faux-seduction. Malcolm's hands found Reese's cheeks. Briefly Reese’s eyes went wide in panic. He probably thought Malcolm was trying to hold him there or even draw him in closer. For a split second he imagined himself again, choking on Reese’s dick while crying, his saliva running down his chin and dripping on the dirty carpet in big dollops.   


Malcolm let his thumbs trace Reese's cheekbones carefully before letting go.   


Reese draw back, just a little bit, then moved in closer, hollowing his cheeks while sucking Malcolm down.   


Malcolm's head fell back as he let out a small moan. He could feel Reese chuckle around his cock but he didn't feel laughed at. He felt like he was floating.

Reese's snickering vibrated trough Malcolm as he bobbed on his dick. He suckled on the glans before rolling his tongue up the underside. Spit was forming on the sides of Reese's mouth as Malcolm looked back down at him sitting between his knees. He couldn't help but groan at the sight.  


Reese returned his stare at the noise. His whole face was an awkward pink. It was delightful.  


Then Reese took him in deep. 

Something in his stomach drew tight, when he felt Reese's throat constrict around the tip as he swallowed.  


Malcolm whimpered. It felt so indescribably /good/. He must now look just as ridiculous as Reese. Sweat was forming on his forehead and collecting in his eyebrows.  


His brother seemed to take his noises as encouragement. With his right hand he gripped Malcolm's pulsating cock where it met the pelvic bone and then started to move his fist in sync with his sloppy mouth. A simple maneuver that, Malcolm was pretty sure, Reese really had learned from watching porn.  


Malcolm could feel himself getting close, feel his balls draw up, tension curling in his belly. The most desperate whine stumbled across his tongue and then his lips before he was able to stop it. It was probably too late to be embarrassed anyway.

"Stop. Please. I’m gonna … ”, Malcolm warned. At the first words Reese haltered in his movements, but as soon as he understood what Malcolm had tried to convey he resumed eagerly.  


Reese's left hand that had, up until now, rested idly in his own lap, rushed up to enclose Malcolm's scrotum. Malcolm gasped. It took everything in him not to just arch forward and thrust impatiently into Reese’s mouth when he started to massage his balls, all the while going down on him with renewed enthusiasm.

And with that Malcolm was right there. Eyes shut tight, toes curling, hands gripping the messy bed sheet, he made an indescribable choppy sound as he came down his brother's throat.  


He heard Reese swallowing. Malcolm’s face was hot lava, never to cool down again.

Reese released Malcolm’s scrotum and then let his cock, still mostly hard, unceremoniously slip out of his mouth. There was a sudden quiet in which the sheet of sweat made Malcolm shudder.  


"You hungry?" Malcolm’s eyes snapped open at that. "What?" The area around Reese’s mouth was all red. He looked used. Malcolm was ashamed how much he liked it. 

Reese shrugged. "I don’t know about you, but I always get hungry after I come."  


Malcolm noticed his own mouth hanging open and shut it with a click. The onslaught of panicked thoughts he had felt rushing back in was suddenly haltered in the face of Reese’s nonchalance.  


"So? I think there are some sandwiches in the fridge that are still edible." "… We could watch some TV. I think wrestling’s on", Malcolm added, warily. "Sure." Reese got up from the floor, putting himself back into his boxer shorts and tugging up his jeans.   


Malcolm hesitated on the bed. "You don’t want to talk about … whatever it was that just happened?", Malcolm asked quietly. Reese responded with an exaggerated sigh. "What are you, a girl? Wanna share your feelings or some shit?"  


Malcolm figured it probably wasn’t a good idea to remind Reese how he had practically begged Malcolm to let him touch him.   


"No, but … " "You liked it, didn’t you?" The conversation was giving Malcolm whiplash. "I mean you just jizzed down my throat. So … whatever." He beamed, seemingly proud of himself. Stunned at the way this was going, Malcolm didn’t answer. He instead stood up – Reese took a maybe cautious step back - and put his underpants on.  


"Here." Reese held his trousers up to him. The smile had faltered. Malcolm took the clothes from him and addressed his "Thanks" to the floor. When he was done getting dressed Reese wordlessly held a hand out to him. He didn’t meet Malcolm's eyes.

  
"Oh", Malcolm whispered, suddenly thinking that he might understand. He smiled. And took it.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me [on tumblr](http://feral-pixiedreamgirl.tumblr.com)


End file.
